


Stay Close To People Who Feel Like Sunlight

by Spencer_Grey



Series: Don’t Wave No Goodbye [1]
Category: No Good Nick (TV)
Genre: Homophobia, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Platonic shipping, Sibling Bonding, give me season 3, give me sibling content or give me death, i need more of these idiots, since there’s like 6 works in this fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-10-01 16:22:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20334544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spencer_Grey/pseuds/Spencer_Grey
Summary: In which Jeremy cries and Nick is a good sister





	Stay Close To People Who Feel Like Sunlight

Jeremy sucked in a breath, already feeling himself falling before his ragged brain could catch up to even stick out an arm to break his fall. His face collided with the pavement, it was becoming a familiar position that day. 

He almost laughed at that thought. Maybe he just delirious from the pain. 

Picking himself up, wincing as his ribs protested, and standing back on his busted ankle, Jeremy continued his trek home. 

In hindsight, calling either of his parents would’ve been the smartest thing to do; and Jeremy had always prided himself on his ability to problem solve. But the bruises were setting in and God, he just needed a few moments to breath, to collect his thoughts and himself before being forced to face anyone. 

He was lucky Jim was too preoccupied fighting to notice Jeremy slip away. 

Finally, fucking finally, the house was in sight. Maybe it was the pain leaving him hysterical, or maybe he was starting to black out because the next thing he knew, he was standing in the living room, and a very concerned Nick was before him. 

Her hands were out reached, as if she wanted to hold him but was too afraid, like he would break. Jeremy thought he might have. 

“Who did this?” he remembered hearing Nick say, her voice so low and angry, seeming so foreign in such a young girl. 

He could only shake his head, the small action sending him underwater, his vision blurred and if Nick had been standing there, he would’ve fallen flat onto his face. Again. 

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Nick’s touch was soft, gentle in a way Jeremy had never imagined it could be. She always seemed too rough, too coarse from life’s bullshit always finding her. But there, arm around his back, the other pulling his around her small shoulders, Nick’s touch was kind, the perfect mix between soft and firm. 

She dragged him up the flight of stairs, keeping all his weight on her, and never complaining; just carried him. 

The bathroom was bright when they finally reached it, the shining white was blinding and Jeremy winced from the light. 

“Don’t be a wimp,” Nick said, a gentle tease that was comfortable for them, normal, as if he hadn’t been beaten to a pulp and she was there to pick up the broken pieces. 

His black eye screamed as he smiled, but he did it nonetheless, needing something to break the tension. 

She sat him down on the closed toilet lid. Jeremy was vaguely aware of Nick rummaging through the cabinets and draws in the bathroom. He hissed when she placed a wet towel to his cheek. 

“What was that for?” he muttered, his voice gruff since the last time he used it, he had been shouting in pain. 

“You were bleeding, idiot.” 

_ Oh _ . 

Nick had found the first aid kit and everything she needed inside. How she had any clue what to do and remain so calm through it all was baffling to Jeremy. But at least it had been her to see him first. 

Nick put some cream onto his cheek and under his eye. 

“Anything else?” she asked, careful not to look at him too directly, giving him the space he needed. 

“Think my ribs are fucked. And my ankle.” 

Nick nodded, crouching down and Jeremy pointed to his right ankle. As gently as she could, Nick rolled up his jeans, and barely hid her own wince at the sight. 

“I’m not sure it’s supposed to look like that,” Jeremy joked. 

His ankle was clearly swollen, and an angry, dark purple bruise had covered it. 

Nick hummed. “Nah, I think it’s about right.” She stood back up. “Can’t be broken, though. You wouldn’t be able to walk at all if it was.” 

“At least there’s one upside in this.” 

The banter fell when Nick gestured for him to lift up his shirt. A spike of pain shot through him as he did, revealing the ugly bruises hidden beneath. 

Nick didn’t even try to suppress her gasp that time. She poked and prodded him, looking for something Jeremy wasn’t sure he wanted to learn how she knew. 

“You’re not gonna ask what happened?” Jeremy asked. 

Nick drew her fingers back when he flinched. 

“Sorry. And I figured you’d talk about it when you wanted to,” she answered. “But you should go to the hospital. Ed and Liz are gonna have to know.” 

Drawing his shirt back down, he said, “Yeah, yeah, I know. I just - needed a minute.” 

Nick sat on the edge of the bathtub, her fingers tapping a steady rhythm. “So what  _ did _ happen?” 

Jeremy sighed deeply, hanging his head as the memory came flooding back. 

“I had to stay after school for a student council meeting. I was the last one to leave, and then - then- ” he took a shaky breath - “they just came out of nowhere.” 

“Who?” 

“I don’t know. But there was like, six of ‘em, I couldn’t fight back. They just started pounding on me and I couldn’t do anything - I couldn’t - I tried - but I just - I - ”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Nick moved to crouch in front of him. “Just breath. You’re okay.” After giving him a moment to regain himself, she asked, “What did they want? I mean, why you?” 

Jeremy gave a dry laugh.  _ I definitely have to be hysterical now.  _

“Well, considering the amount of times they called me a  _ faggot _ , I think they don’t like my school policies.”

“Jeremy,” Nick started, but trailed off. What could she say to make this any better? 

“It’s fine. Jim showed up and stopped it from being any worse.” 

“You need to tell Ed and Liz, and the school, and the cops.” Nick placed a hand onto his, even as it clutched the edge of the toilet. 

_ How are you so soft? After everything, how are you not jaded and torn and angry?  _

“No, it’s fine, I’m fine, I’m - I’m okay. This is nothing - it barely even hurts anymore. I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m - ”

Jeremy had half a thought to wipe away the first tear, but more and more and more kept coming, rolling down his cheeks like rain in a storm. 

“I’m fine,” he muttered through strangled breaths. 

The walls were closing in, his chest was tight and it something was trying to tear apart his heart, the pain was overwhelming, the pain was the only thing he could feel; just pain, pain, pain. 

Everything hurt and why couldn’t he breathe? Why couldn’t he think? He couldn’t see, couldn’t feel anything other than the deep, sharp pain, swallowing his chest and expanding until his lungs were on the verge of exploding. 

A distant part heard Nick, her voice dripping with fear and concern, the edge of tears thick as well. A distant part felt her touch, her soft, gentle touch. 

He wasn’t in his body, he realised. It had slipped away from him, maybe when the first punch collided with his face, maybe when he started crying. 

Crying. He had been crying, his cheeks still wet with the tears. That was something, he could feel something other than the exploding pain. 

Clinging to the tear tracks like a lifeline, Jeremy slowly brought himself back down, felt himself return to his body, however broken it may be. 

“- breaths. That’s it, deep breaths. C’mon, you can do it.” 

Nick was still before him, her hands holding his on his lap, taking deep, exaggerated breaths. Slowly, he began to follow her, timing inhales and exhales with her until the fuzzy feeling that overtaken his body vanished. 

He was still left with pain, but a different, maybe even better pain. 

“Hey.” Nick smiled brightly. “There you go. You’re okay, I’m here.” 

_ I’m here _ . 

Somehow that was the tipping point, and Jeremy was not only okay again, but suddenly swarmed with so many emotions, he could only describe as  _ she's here.  _

“Sorry about that,” Jeremy said. “Didn’t mean to freak out on you.” 

Nick shrugged, sitting back on her heels. “Just a panic attack, happens to the best of us. I used to get them.” Her voice was low, almost afraid. “After my dad got arrested. Hell, I’ve had a few in this bathroom too, when things started getting - y’know, messy.” 

“Oh,” seemed like the only appropriate response. 

“Yeah.” 

Jeremy stared down at his lap, Nick was only holding one of his hands and strangely, he wished that she would take his other. The comfort she gave was unfamiliar but welcomed. She absentmindedly rubbed circles with her thumb. 

A wave of exhaustion washed over Jeremy, the mixture of getting his ass kicked and the panic attack was weighing him down. 

“There’s no avoiding this, is there?” Jeremy asked, already knowing the answer but still, a piece of him longed that he could stay in the bathroom forever. 

Nick stood up, Jeremy following suit and wincing as soon as pressure went onto his ankle. 

“Yeah, unless you can cover that up.” Nick lifted Jeremy’s arm back around her shoulder. 

“You know, this would work better if you were taller.” 

“Do you want to go down the stairs by yourself?” 

“I’ll shut up.” 

-

Nick held Jeremy’s hand the whole time, from telling Ed and Liz the story, to the ride to the hospital. Even as the nurse wrapped his bruised ribs and badly sprained ankle, Nick never let go. 

She hid the nails marks that he didn’t even realise he was causing, squeezing her hand every time a flare of pain shot through him. 

Jeremy never held onto something tighter than when they spoke to the school principal and when the police took his statement. 

“Thank God for Jim,” Jeremy had said as they climbed back into the car outside the station. 

“Yeah, since you weren’t smart enough to get a good look at the guys, he had to do everything.” Nick elbowed him in the side, avoiding the bruises. 

From the passenger seat, Liz turned around. “I’m glad you two are comfortable enough to joke about this. The rest of us, on the other hand, are deeply disturbed.” 

Jeremy winked at Nick with his good eye. 

“Can you two go back to hating each other. It was less weird than this,” Molly remarked. 

-

That, of course, wasn’t the last time Jeremy faced the brunt of the world’s homophobia. But, every single time someone tried to bring him down, tried to shove him back into the closet, Nick was there, with her soft touch and gentle words to bring him back. 

Molly, and his mom, and his dad were there too, but somehow, despite their history, Nick was always the one he turned to. 

She was there for the next panic attack, and the next, and the next. She was there for the threats, and verbal and physical assaults. Nick sat with him the nights where the world’s taunts were too loud, and he started to believe them. 

And he was there for her too. 

Jeremy was there to convince her the Thompson’s still loved her, every broken and shattered piece. He held her through the panic attacks about her dad, and the Harbaughs, and every wrongful act she was forced to go through with. He kept her company on the nights where she could only say  _ I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.  _

They were both a mess, in vastly different ways but still, they came together, came to protect each other. 

So when Ed and Liz came to her again, the word  _ adopt _ slipped from their tongues, and  _ yes _ came from Nick before she could register it, the first thing she said to Jeremy was, “I’m finally your sister.” 

“You always have been,” was his response. 

  
  
  



End file.
